SONGS  OF  VICTORY 


SONGS  OF  VICTORY 


AUTHOR  OF 
"The  Way,  the  Truth  and  the  Life,"  "Songi  of  the  Mystic,"  etc. 


THE  LIBRARY  SHELF 

850  McCLURG  BUILDING 
CHICAGO 


COPYRIGHT  1911 
BY  HENRY  VICTOR   MORGAN 


All  Rights  Reserved 


I  asked  the  Voice: 
"What  is  a  friend'?"- 

A  golden  hush, 
A  silent  flame, 

And  then — 
Tou  came. 


2210802 


CONTENTS 


Page 

A  Friend — Dedication 7 

Victory 13 

The  Song  of  the  Singer 14 

Pioneers  18 

The  New  Age  Vision 20 

The  Yogi's  Vision 22 

The  Hindu's   Meditation 24 

The  Yogi's  Affirmation 26 

Be  Still  and  Know 27 

The  Living  Word 28 

Prayer  of  the  Mystic 29 

Walt  Whitman  30 

Inscribed  in  Walt  Whitman's  "Leaves  of  Grass" 32 

The  Answer   33 

Success    34 

Opportunity   35 

The  Conquest  of  Pain 36 

The  Larger  Fellowship 38 

At  Three  Score  Years  and  Ten 39 

"As  Sees  the  Soul" 40 

The  Spirit  Singing 41 

Unconquered  Faith   44 

But  Some  Have  Fallen  Asleep 45 

The  Song  of  the  Silence 46 

"What  Dost  Thou  Here?" 48 

Known  and  Unknown 49 

Resurrection    50 

The  Message  of  the  Stars 52 

Undiscovered  Lands   53 

The  Soul's  Awakening 54 

Assurance    56 

9 


Resignation   58 

Our  Daily  Prayer 59 

Attainment   60 

To  a  Water  Lily 61 

Thanksgiving   62 

From  Fairer  Shore 63 

The  Cross  of  Christ 65 

To-Day   66 

The  Secret  Fount 68 

The  Divine  Feminine 70 

The  Home  Maker 72 

The  Rose  Gift 73 

Life's  Mystery   74 

A  Baby's  Smile 75 

From  Any  Father  to  Any  Baby 76 

Revelation    77 

My  Wish  for  You 78 

Christmas  Tide 79 

In  Beauty's  Realm 80 

California   82 

To  a  Dreamer 86 

The  Song  of  Joy 87 

Robert  Burns   88 

The  Message  of  Truth 90 

He  and  She 92 

Deep  Calls  to  Deep 93 

The  Joy  of  Years 94 

Springtime 95 

Wings 97 

At  Forty-Six 100 

To  Mother  in  Heaven 102 

The  Message  of  the  Flowers 103 

Dreams  and  Dreamers 104 

Canada  Revisited  105 

The  Robin's  Song 106 

The  Maple  and  the  Child 106 

The  Old  Home 109 

Sunset in 

Unfinished  Still 112 

10 


SONGS  OF  VICTORY 


VICTORY 

I  sing  of  victory,  from  the  deep 

Of  broken  years  and  sore  defeat; 

From  out  the  bitter  fires  of  pain 

I  chant  the  victor's  conquering  strain, 

For  he  who  seeks  to  win  the  prize 

Must  hope  till  even  courage  dies ; 

And  trust,  though  beaten  to  the  dust, 

That  Truth  will  win  when  hope  is  lost. 

This,  then,  is  Victory — to  know, 

Though  crushed  beneath  the  foeman's  blow, 

That  every  throb  of  mortal  woe 

Brings  God  to  face  the  conquering  foe. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  SINGER 

My  songs  are  the  songs  of  battle, 

The  bravest  that  ever  was  fought, 

Where  the  souls  of  men  were  tempted — 

Were  tempted  but  yielded  not; 

Or,  yielding,  have  risen  wiser 

Once  more  in  their  manhood's  might, 

Till  they  led  captivity  captive 

And  put  the  tempter  to  flight. 


My  songs  are  the  universal; 
They  belong  to  no  age  or  race, 
But  to  all  who  see  God  standing 
Just  back  of  the  commonplace 
And  know  through  a  faith  illumined 
That  the  ways  of  lords  and  kings 
Are  baubles  for  fools  admiring, 
Compared  with  Life's  common  things. 


My  song  is  the  song  of  triumph, 
A  call  to  the  brave  and  strong, 
A  song  of  the  countless  heroes 
Who  have  battled  brave  and  long, 
And  who  in  the  deathless  struggle, 
When  seeing  the  battle  go  wrong, 
With  never  a  thought  of  failure 
Have  met  defeat  with  a  song. 


I  sing  to  the  millions  faithful 
Of  earth's  toiling  women  and  men, 
To  whom  no  songs  are  written — 
Not  heroes  of  sword  or  of  pen, 
But  who  in  Life's  long  battle 
Toil  on  with  a  heart  of  trust, 
And  die  with  a  faith  unshaken 
That  the  Heart  of  all  Hearts  is  just. 


I  sing  to  all  mothers  faithful, 
But  my  words  are  poor  and  weak : 
When  within  the  Holy  of  Holies, 
We  never  the  highest  can  speak. 
To  you,  O  mother  in  heaven ! 
These  songs  of  my  soul  I  bring; 
Could  I  tell  of  your  love  transcendent, 
The  angels  would  cease  to  sing. 


I  sing  to  the  countless  women 
Who  have  missed  the  goal  of  life, 
Who  have  ne'er  felt  baby  fingers 
Nor  claimed  the  name  of  wife ; 
But,  strong  in  your  ways  appointed, 
Have  lived  for  the  common  good, 
And  loved  till  your  hearts  were  opened 
To  a  measureless  motherhood 


That  knows  neither  race  nor  kindred 
But  broods  over  all  things  lone — 
In  hospitals,  jails  and  prisons 
The  light  of  your  love  has  shone. 

15 


The  lesser  from  you  was  holden, 
That  you  might  obtain  the  best — 
Your  love  is  the  universal ; 
All  men  by  such  love  are  blest. 


I  sing  to  the  army  of  dreamers 

Whose  deep  souls  the  Vision  has  caught, 

Who  have  told  of  a  glory  transcending 

The   things   that    earth's    scholars   have   taught. 

Men  called  you  but  dreamers,  my  brothers, 

And  laughed  at  the  stories  you  told — 

Your  dreams  have  grown  into  cities, 

Your  visions  are  coined  into  gold. 


They  still  call  you  dreamers,  my  brothers, 
As  you  tell  of  the  glory  to  be — 
Dream  on,  O  dreamers,  and  heed  not, 
But  tell  us  the  things  that  you  see. 
Our  eyes  from  the  Spirit  are  holden, 
We  know  not  the  way  to  Life's  goal, 
We  perish,  though  fed  by  the  senses, 
Unless  we  have  vision  of  soul. 


I  sing  to  the  Prophets  and  Saviors 
Of  every  race  and  clime 
Whose  words  have  filled  the  ages 
With  a  melody  divine. 
You  have  told  us  a  wondrous  story, 
You  have  walked  the  earth  in  pain, 
And  worked  in  love  for  your  fellows 
With  never  a  thought  of  gain. 

16 


The  ears  of  Earth's  men  were  holden, 
But  your  work  was  not  in  vain. 
Who  saveth  his  life  shall  lose  it; 
Who  loseth,  shall  find  it  again: 
The  words  from  your  deep  soul  spoken 
Are  shaping  our  thoughts  today; 
The  kingdoms  of  earth  will  perish 
But  your  words  pass  not  away. 


I  sing  to  all  men  not  risen 
From  out  of  the  filth  and  slime ; 
My  hand  to  your  hand,  my  brother, 
Your  heart  to  this  heart  of  mine. 
I  speak  from  out  of  life's  prison ; 
I  have  drunk  the  wormwood  and  gall, 
And  learned  from  the  things  I  suffered 
Of  a  Love  that  embraceth  all. 


I  send  my  songs  o'er  earth's  darkness; 
I  sing  what  my  spirit  has  known; 
My  songs  are  the  songs  of  triumph — 
But  the  highest  has  not  been  shown. 
My  pen  is  but  human,  and  never 
Can  bring  to  your  soul  the  right  word; 
But,  listen!  perhaps  in  the  Silence 
You  may  hear  what  my  spirit  has  heard. 


PIONEERS 

Pioneers  for  Human  Freedom — 

Pioneers!  O  Pioneers! 
Hear  ye  not  the  still  Voice  calling, 
Calling  through  the  waiting  years, 
For  the  fearless  souls  and  daring1? 

Pioneers!   O  Pioneers! 
Mammon  sits  enthroned  and  smiling — 


Pioneers!   O  Pioneers! 
Priests  and  kings  his  power  beguiling, 
Reaping  gold  from  children's  tears; 
For  his  hard  heart  knows  no  pity, 
Blind  his  eyes  and  deaf  his  ears 
To  all  else  than  golden  profit. 
See  ye  not*?  O  Pioneers! 


Round  him  flock  the  Gods  of  fashion — 

Pioneers!   O  Pioneers! 
Praising  blindly,  laughing  wildly, 
What  to  them  are  children's  tears'? 
But  his  chains  shall  all  be  broken 
For  the  Son  of  Man  appears, 
Bright   His  eyes,    His  garments   gleaming. 
See  ye  not"?  O  Pioneers! 


18 


Has  He  not  the  wine-press  trodden 
Till  His  strong  soul  knows  no  fears'? 
And  He  stands  upon  the  threshold 
Calling  now  for  Pioneers; 
Calling  to  the  brave  and  fearless 
Who  have  eyes  and  who  have  ears 
For  the  God  of  Truth  and  Gladness. 
Hear  ye  not"?   O  Pioneers! 
Lo,  He  stands  upon  the  threshold — 
Shout  for  joy,  O  Pioneers! 


THE  NEW  AGE  VISION 

My  eyes  have  seen  the  coming 

Of  an  age  that  is  to  be, 

When  from  every  limitation 

Shall  the  sons  of  Man  be  free. 

For  the  age  is  rich  in  promise: 

Had  we  only  eyes  to  see, 

We  might  catch  Love's  banner  waving 

Over  all  Earth's  misery. 

Even  now  the  Voice  is  calling, 
Calling  softly,  sweet  and  clear, 
Unto  all  whose  souls  are  waiting, 
Saying:  "Lo,  that  time  is  here! 
Leave  your  sorrow,  leave  your  anguish, 
Leave  your  woe  and  care  behind, 
For  the  kingdom  now  is  waiting — 
Glorious  kingdom  of  the  Mind." 

Oh,  my  soul  has  heard  the  summons 
Calling  all  to  victory  sweet, 
But  my  pen  cannot  translate  it 
Nor  my  words  its  depths  repeat. 
Still  my  eyes  are  fixed  upon  it, 
And  I  reach  a  comrade's  hand 
Unto  all  whose  souls  are  longing 
With  that  conquering  host  to  stand, 

20 


Saying:  "Courage,  courage,  comrade, 

For  the  victory  is  sure; 

Death  and  hell  cannot  prevent  you, 

Have  you  courage  to  endure!" 

Oh,  my  soul  has  seen  love's  coming; 

Even  now  it  waiting  stands, 

And  the  earth  bids  welcome!  welcome! 

While  the  trees  clap  loud  their  hands. 


21 


THE  YOGI'S  VISION 

The  Yogi  dreamed — was  it  a  dream? — 
About  all  nature's  Causeless  Cause, 
The  seeming  calling  itself  Real, 
The  Real  on  sleeping  wings 
Undreamed,  unknown. 

And,  as  he  dreamed,  shapes  of  all  imaging  there  came — 

Beast,  bird  and  things  unclean  for  him  to  name — 

And  he,  beholding  all,  uncertain  stood 

Until  a  voice  within  his  soul  pronounced  the  Magic  Name 

of  Good; 

Then  at  that  name  all  things  unclean  spread  wings  of  light, 
Laved  in  the  cleansing  flood. 

Then  said  the  Tempter's  voice,  "If  Brahm  is  good,  and  all 

is  good,  leap  thou  within  the  night." 

On  awful  height  the  Yogi  stood  and  looked  within  the  depth. 
Ten  million  leagues  he  looked,  then  laughed  and  leapt  into 

the  night; 
And  Brahm  was  there  as  Light. 

The  waters  came — before  his  eyes  the  waters  piled, 

Until  the  mountain  height  was  reached, 

And  all  but  he  were  drowned. 

The  Yogi  laughed  and  leaped  into  the  flood, 

As  leaps  a  child  when  mother's  arms  are  found — 

And  Brahm  was  solid  ground. 

22 


Once  more  with  fervent  heat  the  earth  was  swept; 
Nearer,  more  near,  the  fiery  monster  came, 
The  mountains  melting  and  the  seas  aflame — 
The  Yogi  laughed  and  leaped  into  its  depth, 
Naming  the  magic  Name, 
And  Brahm  was  known  as  Flame. 

The  Yogi  woke  and  played  the  game  called  Life, 

Walking  the  ways  of  men — 

Oft  lost  amid  the  shadows, 

Calling  at  times  the  shadows,  Real — 

Yet  never  lost  from  out  his  soul  the  Vision  of  the  Deep — 

the  Flood — the  Flame, 

But  stilled  Earth's  sorrows  when  the  billows  rolled 
By  mention  of  the  Name —  the  Name,  the  Ineffable  Name ! 


THE  HINDU'S  MEDITATION 

"Lo,  the  seeming  is  but  Maya! 
Changing,  changing,  all  things  seen  are. 
That  which  earth-men  strive  the  most  for 
Changes,  as  the  shadows  changing, 
Leaving  naught  but  dreams  remaining. 
Changing  dreams  of  changing  millions 
Is  the  science  of  the  school-men, 
Science  of  the  world  of  shadows, 
Leading  souls  to  fountains  failing — 
As  the  mirage  vain  deceiving 
Is  all  that  which  is  not  Being. 
At  the  fountain's  changeless  flowing 
Rests  my  soul  in  bliss  of  knowing 
That  alone  which  changeth  changeless 
Is  not  born  and  must  be  deathless — 
Birthless,  deathless,  am  I,  changeless 
As  the  One  on  whom  my  mind  is." 


Thus  beneath  the  sacred  Bo-tree, 
In  the  Mountain  Himalaya 
Sits  the  Hindu  Yogi  dreaming, 
Dreaming  of  the  blest  Nirvana. 
Round  him  earth-men  fight  and  conquer, 
Conquer  still  and  claim  dominion; 
Claiming  earth  that  soon  will  claim  them, 
Leaving  not  a  trace  of  footsteps 

24 


In  the  years  as  quicksand  passing. 

Who  shall  say  which  is  the  wiser, 

They  who  fight  and  they  who  conquer 

Only  to  be  conquered  by  that 

Which  they  leave  still  to  be  fought  for — 

Or  the  Hindu  Yogi  dreaming 

Of  the  changelessness  of  Being, 

'Neath  the  shadow  of  the  seeming1? 


THE  YOGI'S  AFFIRMATION 

My  soul  and  I  together  stand 
Undaunted  while  the  ages  roll, 
Safe  billowed  on  the  sea  of  Time — 
I  Am  for  aye  a  living  soul. 

I  Am — I  Was — ere  morning  stars 
Sang  o'er  the  deep  their  mystic  song; 
I  Am  and  Shall  Be  when  the  last 
In  the  deep  sea  of  night  is  flung. 

I  Am  not  good,  nor  evil  I — 

I  Am  whate'er  the  soul  proclaims; 

I  Am  the  Essence  uncreate, 

I  Am  not  bound  by  word  or  names. 

I  Am !  All  things  exist  by  me — 
But  far  beyond  existence,  I; 
I  speak  and  chaos  disappears 
And  suns  and  planets  fill  the  sky. 

I  Am!  All  things  by  me  exist. 
I  Am  creation's  final  goal. 
I  Am — I  never  can  be  less; 
I  Am,  in  God,  a  Living  Soul. 


26 


BE  STILL  AND  KNOW 

O  weary  storm-tossed  soul, 

Be  still— 
The  Master  speaks!     Can  you  but  say 

"I  will," 

Then  all  the  adverse  winds  obey 
Thy  Word  of  Might— 
And  lo!  from  out  of  chaos'  darkest  night 
Will  come  obedient 
To  Thy  still  small  Voice,  the  power 
Of  courage  born,  and  strong  desire, 
Clothed  with  the  mantle  of  celestial  fire 
That  burns  the  dross  of  helplessness  away. 
Then  you  can  say,  "Be  still !" 
To  all  the  winds  that  blow, 
And  in  thy  deepest  being  know 
The  Mighty  God  stands  pledged 
To  make  it  so. 
O  Soul,  be  still— 
And  know 

Thy  Mighty  God  stands  pledged 
To  make  it  so. 


THE  LIVING  WORD 

How  vain,  O  Lord,  our  building  is, 
Unless  we  build  with  Thee; 
But  he  who  builds  as  in  Thy  sight 
Builds  for  Eternity. 

The  weakest  thing  when  used  by  Thee 
Is  strong  with  all  Thy  might; 
When  sorrows  come,  Thy  love  is  sure; 
In  darkness,  Thou  art  Light. 

The  work  Thou  givest  us  to  do, 

We  bring  to  Thee  to  bless; 

Speak  Thou  through  us  the  Living  Word, 

And  crown  us  with  success. 

Then  shall  the  seed  we  sow  in  faith 
Grow  to  a  mighty  tree, 
And  all  the  labor  of  our  hands 
Fulfill  Love's  destiny. 


PRAYER  OF  THE  MYSTIC 

Not  riches,  Lord,  nor  loud  acclaim, 
Nor  honors  high  bestowed  by  men; 
But  just  to  see 

With  inward  sight 
The  beauty  which  around  me  lies; 
The  glories  of  the  glad  sunrise, 
The  silent  splendors  of  the  night. 
That  bird  and  flower  their  secret  may 
Reveal  unto  my  listening  ear — 
The  Voices  that  the  world  hears  not, 

I  long  to  hear; 

That  in  each  sinful  human  face 
The  heavenly  angel  I  may  trace, 
And  see  each  cross  along  life's  road 
As  stepping  stone  to  some  great  good — 

'Tis  all  I  ask. 


WALT  WHITMAN 

"Oh  furious,  O  unconfined!" 

Thou  who  with  soul  inebriate 

Sought  in  each  object  curious 

Some  trace  of  Deity  to  find; 

Looked  in  on  birth  and  smiled, 

And  welcomed  death  as  loving  friend 

God-sent  to  lead  us  Home. 

We  cannot  roam  beyond  thy  thought 

That  swept  the  universe  and  loved 

As  God  all  things  God  made. 

Men  say  that  thou  art  dead, 

But  nay !  thy  love  'all  unconfined 

Is  still  a  living  force  to  all  who  love 

And  seek  through  love  to  find 

The  universal  good — 

Thou  canst  not  cease  to  move  men's  hearts 

Till  love  has  come  to  stay. 

Thou  teachest  strength  and  faith 

To  meet  contingencies,  as  beast 

And  bird  and  rooted  things; 

And,  uncomplaining,  having  done  our  best, 

To  meet  rebuffs  with  measured  trust. 

Thy  thoughts  are  living  things, 

Wind-swept  and  purified  by  elemental  life; 

Thy  vision,  great  as  nature; 

Thy  words  as  rhythmic  as  the  stars, 

Shaming  our  pettiness,  calling  our  soul 

30 


To  meet  God  in  the  open  unashamed 

And  speak  our  word  till  chaos  disappears; 

A  living  presence  in  thy  loved  America — 

America,  the  world-embracer,  where  all 

May  meet  as  Sons  of  God,  all  boundaries  gone. 

Such  was  thy  vision.     May  it  be! 

Then  all  the  world  shall  see  humanity  redeemed 

From  Error's  chains  ignoble. 

O  soul  invincible,  from  higher  realms! 

Lead  on  till  hope  is  verified, 

And  Faith  made  certainty. 


INSCRIBED  IN  WALT  WHITMAN'S  "LEAVES  OF 

GRASS" 

Within  this  book  a  treasure  lies, 

And  they  who  seek  with  earnest  eyes  and  open  mind 

Will  see  beneath  the  ebb  and  flow  of  seeming  chaos — order 

grow ; 

Forms  here  take  shape,  and  unclean  things 
Are  lifted,  as  the  singer  sings, 
To  higher  realms  and  purer  air, 
Till  God  seems  breathing  everywhere. 


THE  ANSWER 

They  heard  him  not.    The  great  and  proud 

Said:   "Who  is  this  that  would  now  teach  us, 

Is  not  this  man  the  son  of  a  carpenter? 

And  we  are  the  children  of  Abraham! 

Nay,  babbler,  hence,  we  will  hear  you  not. 

Rabbis  and  teachers  in  Israel,  we; 

Men  grant  us  honor  and  lowly  bow; 

But  tell  us,  babbler,  who  art  thou*?" 

And  the  strange  young  Teacher  turned  away 

From  their  angry  looks  to  the  setting  sun 

That  was  painting  fair  the  horizon 

And  trembling  its  light  o'er  the  clouds  afar; 

He  looked  to  the  hills  which  sheltered  the  fox, 

He  saw  the  gold  cloud  chariot, 

And  His  soul  was  peaceful; 

So  calm  he  answered  they  ne'er  forgot, 

"I  am  only  the  Son  of  God." 


33 


SUCCESS 

I  hold  that  man  alone  succeeds 

Whose  life  is  crowned  by  noble  deeds, 

Who  cares  not  for  the  world's  applause 

But  scorns  vain  custom's  outgrown  laws; 

Who  feels  not  dwarfed  by  nature's  show, 

But  deep  within  himself  doth  know 

That  conscious  man  is  greater  far 

Than  ocean,  land  or  distant  star; 

Who  does  not  count  his  wealth  by  gold, 

His  worth  by  office  he  may  hold, 

But  feels  himself,  as  man  alone, 

As  good  as  king  upon  a  throne; 

Who,  battling  'gainst  each  seeming  wrong, 

Can  meet  disaster  with  a  song, 

Feel  sure  of  victory  in  defeat, 

And  rise  refreshed  the  foe  to  meet. 

Who  only  lives  the  world  to  bless, 

Can  never  fail— HE  IS  SUCCESS. 


34 


OPPORTUNITY 

I  pondered  long  o'er  Shakespeare's  lines 
About  a  tide  in  every  life 
Which,  taken  full,  to  victory  leads — 
Neglected,  ends  in  shallows  rife. 

And  as  I  pondered,  "Lo,"  I  said, 
"When  is  the  time"?    How  may  we  know 
The  moment  when  to  catch  its  flood 
And  yet  avoid  the  undertow1?" 

The  deep  Voice  answered,  "Write  to  all 
Who  seek  that  moment's  magic  glow, 
One  Living  Word  is  all  you  need — 
In  burning  letters  write  it — NOW." 


35 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  PAIN 

I  entered  the  Valley  of  Pain. 

Sorrow  and  anguish  were  there, 

Sad  voices  lamenting. 

Here  the  inhabitants  called  themselves 

The  earth-accursed  of  the  Lord, 

And  their  home  the  Valley  of  the  Gate  to  Hell. 

Looked  they  with  wild  eyes  for  avenues  of  escape, 

And  longed  to  dwell  in  the  fair  fields 

Where  live  the  earth-sons  strong. 

Long  dwelt  I  in  this  Valley 

And  walked  with  aching  heart  its  thorny  paths, 

Feet  bleeding,  despair  taking  deep  hold, 

Till  life  seemed  worse  than  death, 

And  Hell  than  Pain  preferred. 

Then  prayed  I  that  the  demon  of  Pain 

Might  come  to  me  that  I  my  hate  might  speak — 

Then  die. 

That  night  a  vision  of  great  beauty  came 

And  a  voice  than  all  the  music  of  the  earth  more  sweet 

Spake,  saying:  "I  have  come.     Speak!" 

But  loud  in  agony  I  cried:   "Depart, 

Thou  vision  of  beauty  and  light, 

From  out  this  Vale  accursed! 

Beauty  and  love  belong  not  here — 

Here  dwell  the  earth-accursed  of  the  Lord." 

Strangely,  sweetly,  smiled  the  vision, 

And  answered  calm:  "I  am  the  Spirit  of  Pain. 

36 


To  guard  and  keep  this  Valley 

Has  been  assigned  me  by  the  Lord, 

And  to  my  keeping  oft  are  sent 

The  Father's  best  beloved 

Here  to  be  prepared,  though  as  by  fire, 

To  enter  their  dominions  grand. 

They  who  in  patience  pass  my  fires, 

And  learn  my  lessons  long, 

Shall  rule  the  kingdoms  of  the  world. 

Safely  shall  they  handle  scorpions 

And  no  evil  thing  shall  harm." 

Beauteous  was  the  vision  and  my  soul  cried: 

"Tarry  with  me,  for  now  that  I  have  seen  thy  face,  I  love !" 

The  vision  vanished,  speaking  thus: 

"Thou  art  free.    Life's  great  lesson 

Is  to  learn  to  love. 

They  who  love  Pain  have  their  dominion  gained. 

Rise  and  walk!" 

Then  I  awoke — but  Pain  was  not. 


37 


THE  LARGER  FELLOWSHIP 

Too  long,  O  Lord,  thy  children  reared 
Their  separate  temples  unto  Thee, 
And  sought  with  iron  creeds  to  bind 
The  souls  Thou  madest  to  be  free. 

But  larger  now  Thy  house  we  build, 
Its  doors  ope  wide  to  every  land: 
Thy  ways  are  deep — we  do  not  know, 
But  faith  and  love  can  understand. 

We  write  no  creed,  no  questions  ask; 
One  law  we  seek  all  else  above — 
When  men  preach  hate,  we  answer  not, 
But  name  Thy  name — Thy  name  is  Love. 

"Where  is  Thy  house,  O  Lord?"  I  prayed. 
"Our  human  eyes  are  weak  and  blind." 
"Seek  not  afar,"  the  Voice  replied, 
"I  live  wherever  men  are  kind." 


AT  THREE  SCORE  YEARS  AND  TEN 
To  S.  E.  K. 

O  mother-heart,  be  strong! 

Each  milestone  on  thy  earthly  way 

Has  led  thee  to  the  clearer  day 

Above  earth's  noise  and  din, 

Until  at  last,  in  peace, 

With  seventy  lifting  wings  beneath, 

Thou  standest  on  the  height, 

Earth's  sorrows  changed  to  joy 

By  working  in  God's  sight, 

And  in  thy  soul  that  peace 

That  ne'er  can  know  alloy. 

Still  onward,  upward,  be  thy  way, 

All  clouds  above; 

And  ours  the  joy  to  know 

In  thee  the  larger  love 

That  lifts  us  from  the  sod — 

A  vision  of  the  Mother-Heart  of  God. 


39 


"AS  SEES  THE  SOUL" 

Out  of  the  past, 
Into  the  vast 
Present,  to  last, 
Lo,  I  am  come! 
Storm  upon  storm, 
Never  alarm, 
Steadfast  and  sure 
Through  storm  and  calm, 
Here  now  I  am. 

Soul,  only  soul, 
Old  as  God  old, 
Still  ever  young — 
Words  which  no  tongue 
Ever  yet  sung 
Cannot  express 
That  which  is  best — 
Soul,  only  soul. 

While  ages  roll, 
Ever  the  same, 
Seeing  God's  hand 
Back  of  the  plan; 
Claiming  my  own, 
Through  centuries  sown ; 
Soul,  only  soul — 
Part  of  the  whole. 

40 


THE  SPIRIT  SINGING 

One  evening  I  wandered  musing 

Far  out  by  the  ocean's  shore 

And  listened  with  deathless  sadness 

To  the  sound  of  its  sullen  roar. 

The  ocean,  that  rolled  incessant, 

Seemed  breathing  heartbroken  sighs, 

And  the  spray  which  it  dashed  in  madness 

Were  as  tears  from  human  eyes. 

My  own  lost  ideals  mocked  me 
And  the  hopes  of  my  youthful  Spring 
Glided  like  ghosts  beside  me 
On  sleeping  and  soulless  wing. 
For  I  had  dreamed  in  life's  morning 
Fond  dreams  of  glorious  worth, 
Had  labored  with  zeal  and  gladness 
For  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 

But  all  my  hopes  were  broken, 
My  heart  lay  bleeding  and  bare, 
I  drifted  a  wreck  on  life's  ocean, 
I  drifted — and  cared  not  where. 
For  the  earth  was  no  longer  golden, 
But  a  level  waste  of  pain, 
And  the  rainbow  of  hope  alluring 
Could  never  be  mine  again. 


No  hell  could  be  worse  than  to  stand 
In  the  midst  of  ideals  slain, 
To  walk  with  a  show  of  gladness 
And  the  restless  heart  of  Cain; 
To  feel,  'neath  the  smiling  surface, 
The  misery  at  the  core, 
That  the  longing  of  men  for  heaven 
Was  to  hell  the  open  door. 

Till  I  said  in  my  anguish,  driven, 
"This  earth-life's  all  in  vain," 
When  sudden  from  over  the  waters 
There  floated  a  wonderful  strain — 
The  song  of  a  soul  rejoicing, 
And  I  asked  not  the  singer  to  see, 
It  seemed  the  Voice  of  the  Spirit 
Singing  Love's  song  to  me. 

A  song  of  man's  soul,  triumphant 

O'er  poverty,  woe  and  pain, 

And  each  pang  my  soul  had  suffered 

Seemed  a  part  of  that  heavenly  strain. 

I  never  can  tell  how  it  happened, 

But  my  sorrows  melted  away 

And  the  eyes  of  my  soul  were  opened 

To  the  light  of  a  heavenly  day. 

Since  that  magical  hour  by  the  ocean, 
Which  I  call  the  Soul's  new  birth, 
I  have  walked  with  faith  triumphant 
Through  the  darkest  vales  of  earth; 

42 


And  whenever  my  way  is  darkened, 
And  my  life  seems  full  of  pain, 
It  is  then  I  can  hear  in  accents  clear 
Some  notes  of  that  wonderful  strain. 

Oh,  blest  be  the  hour  of  vision 

When  the  ears  of  the  soul  can  hear 

The  music  of  choirs  celestial, 

As  we  walk  with  our  loved  ones  here! 

Fain,  fain,  would  I  write  it  down — 

The  message  clear  and  ringing — 

But  my  earth-born  words  cannot  express 

The  Song  of  the  Spirit  Singing. 


43 


UNCONQUERED  FAITH 

They  move  me  not,  these  things  of  sense- 
I  walk  with  joy  where  tempests  blow, 
Since  faith  unsealed  my  inner  sight, 
And  it  was  given  me  to  know 
That  God  is  in  the  storm,  and  He 
Sends  only  what  is  good  for  me. 

I  do  not  doubt,  I  question  not 

Nor  for  the  future  do  I  pray, 

But  reach  strong  hands  of  loving  faith 

And  trust  the  Stream  that  knows  its  way. 

God  leaves  me  not  alone,  but  He 

Speaks  from  the  storm  and  .strengthens  me. 

Some  day  my  bark  will  reach  the  brink 
Where  darkness  seems  the  only  goal, 
Can  I  not  leap  within  the  night 
To  meet  my  Captain,  soul  to  soul? 
The  Lord  of  Light  will  surely  be 
Within  the  vale  to  comfort  me. 


44 


BUT  SOME  HAVE  FALLEN  ASLEEP 

They  are  not  dead,  our  vanished  friends, 
"They  fell  asleep" — O  blessed  thought! 
Let  joy  bells  ring,  the  victors  crown, — 
They  rest  in  sleep,  the  fight  is  fought. 

"They  fell  asleep" — God's  sweetest  gift 
To  mortals  in  their  hour  of  need; 
The  tired  head  no  more  shall  throb, 
Our  mortal  aid  no  more  they  need. 

For  sleep  has  borne  them  from  our  reach 
To  lands  beyond  our  farthest  sight; 
They  wake  in  bliss,  I  can  believe, 
For,  lo!  He  doeth  all  things  right. 


45 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  SILENCE 

Say,  have  you  not  heard  it"? — 

The  Song  of  the  Silence, 
The  Voice  of  the  Living, 

The  Uttermost  word, 
Deep  down  in  your  being — 

The  real,  not  the  seeming — 
The  Song  of  the  Silence 

The  Voice  of  the  Lord! 

O  weary  one!  bearing 

Life's  burdens,  still  erring, 
Your  conscience  all  seared 

With  the  thralldom  of  sin, 
Oh,  have  you  not  heard  it? — 

No  language  can  word  it — 
Say,  have  you  not  heard  it, 

The  Voice  from  within"? 


In  times  of  abstraction, 

When  life  seems  distraction, 
God  waits  in  the  Silence 

Within — He  is  there. 
O  brother,  believe  it; 

No  power  can  relieve  it — 
This  burden  of  sorrow 

Which  ends  in  despair — 

46 


Until  from  the  Silence 

There  comes  for  your  guidance 
The  Voice  of  the  Uttermost, 

Saying,  "Be  still !" 
When,  deep  from  your  being, 

The  real  not  the  seeming, 
You  speak  to  the  Silence 

Deep,  saying — "I  will!" 

Then  all  the  wild  uproar 

Shall  never  be  heard  more; 
The  Silence  has  spoken, 

Earth's  sorrows  are  still — 
O  brother,  believe  it, 

Earth's  sorrows  are  still, 
When  deep  from  the  Silence 

You  answer — "I  will." 


47 


"WHAT  DOST  THOU  HERE?' 

Ah,  there  be  living  those  today 
In  earthly  caves,  by  dying  springs, 
Who  in  some  hour  of  vision  grand, 
Have  known  the  human  soul  has  wings; 

Whose  eyes  the  Lord  God's  hand  has  touched 
Until  they  saw  with  inner  light 
The  armed  chariots  of  the  Lord 
Forever  battling  for  the  right. 

And  yet  today  they  hide  unknown 
From  those  who  struggle  for  the  right; 
They  listen  to  the  voice  of  men 
And  will  not  trust  the  inner  sight. 

Their  lives  are  spent  in  low  pursuit, 
They  strive  for  fame  and  hoard  up  gold; 
They  win  the  foolish  world's  applause, 
But  know  for  this  the  god  is  sold. 

Still  listening  to  the  world's  acclaim, 
Full  oft  a  well  known  Voice  they  hear: 
"O  thou  who  knowest  the  living  God, 
What  dost  thou  here?" 


48 


KNOWN  AND  UNKNOWN 

Two  regions  lie  before  the  soul — 
The  present  seeming  lean  and  bare, 
The  future  clothed  in  purple  mist 
With  myriad  fountains  playing  there. 

And,  lo !  my  soul,  in  fetters  bound, 
Strained  steadfast  at  the  binding  chain, 
Till  longing — mightiest  power  of  God — 
Melted  the  welded  links  in  twain. 

Then  upward  as  an  arrow  shot, 
I  reached  the  land  of  soul's  desire, 
The  fountains  faded  into  mist 
Before  me  still  loomed  heaven's  fire. 

One  backward  glance  to  where  I  stood, 
And,  lo !  it  burned  in  glory  bright ; 
Again  the  present  lean  and  bare 
Seemed  clothed  in  an  eternal  night. 

God's  truth  stood  then  to  me  revealed, 
'Tis  vain  to  seek  in  distant  sphere, 
For  when  we  see  with  wisdom's  eye, 
The  present  glory  shineth  here. 


49 


RESURRECTION 

Out  of  the  night's  dense  darkness 
I  lifted  my  soul  to  Thee, 
And  sought  with  the  eyes  of  mortals 
Thy  shining  ways  to  see. 


But  my  eyes  were  sore  with  weeping, 
And  the  love  of  my  heart  was  cold; 
And  no  more  came  the  heavenly  vision 
As  it  did  in  the  days  of  old. 


It  was  only  a  phantom  answered, 
And  these  were  the  words  it  said: 
"Return  to  your  man-made  prison, 
For  the  God  of  your  youth  is  dead." 


"Is  dead?    Then  who  is  speaking?" 
I  said  in  my  heart's  deep  pain; 
And  the  Voice  of  the  Silence  answered : 
"Was  dead,  but  I  live  again." 


Now  a  newborn  hope  sustains  me 
That  will  not  pass  away; 
Each  moment  is  resurrection, 
Each  day  is  judgment  day. 

And  never  a  dream  shall  perish; 
And  all  I  seek,  I  find; 
As  I  see  with  faith  illumined 
And  the  resurrected  mind. 


THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  STARS 

(Written  on  the  night  of  the  San  Francisco  Earthquake) 

O  ye  stars  above  our  city, 
On  this  awful  burning  night, 
Shining  in  your  steadfast  orbits, 
Ever  peaceful,  ever  quiet; 
Long  I  gaze  upon  ye,  thinking 
All  the  lessons  ye  might  teach 
Had  we  ears  to  catch  your  meaning 
And  translate  it  into  speech. 

As  I  listen,  comes  a  stillness 
Even  'midst  this  burning  hell, 
And  a  Voice  from  out  the  distance 
Saying,  "Write  it!— 'All  is  well.' 
Never  yet  has  been  disaster, 
Nor  one  stroke  of  suffering  vain, 
Though  you  may  not  know  the  meaning 
Nor  the  purpose  deep  of  pain." 

O  ye  stars  above  our  city, 
Is  it  this  that  makes  ye  quiet? 
See  ye  deeper,  see  ye  truer 
Than  we  mortals  in  our  fright? 
Then,  oh,  clothe  us  in  thy  stillness, 
Round  us  weave  thy  magic  spell 
Till  from  out  a  planet  burning 
We  can  answer:  "All  is  well!" 

52 


UNDISCOVERED  LANDS 

As  Christopher  of  old  dreamed  dreams 

Of  undiscovered  lands, 

So  ever  dreams  the  soul 

Of  regions  vast  beyond  Earth's  seeing. 

Fair,  fertile  fields  appear,  star-sown, 

Bearing  rich  sustenance  for  noble  souls, 

Who,  scorning  all  the  world  calls  great, 

Move  calmly  on  in  unknown  paths, 

Meeting  fore'er  their  own 

On  earth,  in  heaven  or  hell,  at  home. 

O  soul!  undaunted  stand, 

Seeing  in  every  change  the  One, 

Changelessly  meeting  change 

With  faith's  all-seeing  eye. 

O  vision  grand!  O  hour  most  blest, 

When  first  our  eyes  are  opened  unto  Man! 

Dominion  crowned  is  he,  but  creepeth  in  the  dust, 

Still  in  his  darkness  dreaming  dreams 

Of  one  who  ruleth  all  the  Universe — 

Until  the  veil  is  rent  by  Love's  strong  hand, 

And  Man  stands  firm  on  New  Discovered  Land — 

Himself  the  lord. 


53 


THE  SOUL'S  AWAKENING 

An  angel  there  dwelt  in  a  form  of  clay, 
In  a  form  as  fair  as  the  Gods  have  made; 
But  the  angel  slept,  and  she  knew  it  not, 
While  they  who  were  wise  in  silence  prayed 
That  a  quickening  power  might  yet  be  given 
To  wake  the  guest  by  the  maid  forgot 
And  change  her  earth  to  a  dream  of  heaven. 


But  the  maid  still  travelled  the  beaten  way 
That  leads  to  the  heights  which  men  call  fame, 
But  the  gods  wept  deep  o'er  the  soul  forgot 
For  the  Gods  see  not  as  men  the  same, 
Nor  heed  they  the  noise  of  the  world's  acclaim ; 
For  they  know  that  the  way  to  life  is  not 
By  the  shining  roads  of  wealth  and  fame. 


Then  the  sorrows  came  and  the  way  grew  dark, 
And  the  maid  wept  sore  in  her  grief  alone, 
And  the  Gods  were  glad  when  they  saw  her  weep, 
And  their  hearts  seemed  hard  as  hearts  of  stone; 
But  the  angel  stirred  by  sorrow's  stings 
Awoke  in  that  hour  from  its  earthly  sleep, 
And  lifted  the  maid  on  living  wings. 


54 


Today  she  sails  in  a  magic  bark 

O'er  a  sea  of  mingled  fire  and  pain, 

But  the  pains  of  the  world  they  touch  her  not 

And  never  can  touch  the  soul  again; 

While  the  hours  of  pain  seem  a  magic  strain, 

And  wealth  and  fame  but  dreams  forgot, 

Since  the  hour  of  the  Soul's  Awakening. 


55 


ASSURANCE 

There  comes  to  my  heart  more  and  more 
This  infinite  spirit  of  trust, 
That  in  spite  of  all  earth-seeming  wrongs 
The  universe  ever  is  just. 


No  matter  how  heavy  the  load, 
Nor  how  bitter  the  trials  we  have  known; 
Though  broken  and  crushed  in  the  dust, 
We  are  reaping  just  what  we  have  sown. 


I  look  o'er  the  ocean  of  life, 
And  I  see  all  the  sorrow  and  wrong, 
The  weary,  heartbroken,  oppressed, 
And  yet  my  soul  breaks  into  song; 


For  I  have  seen  deeper,  and  know 
That  no  sorrow  was  ever  in  vain, 
And  of  all  of  God's  gifts  unto  men 
The  deepest  and  kindest  is  pain. 


Yea,  I  have  seen  deeper,  and  know 
What  the  Voice  of  the  deep  Spirit  saith- 
That  the  angel  that  leads  unto  life 
Is  the  phantom  that  mortals  call  Death. 

Thus  I  sing  a  glad  song  unto  men 
Regardless  what  road  they  have  trod, 
For  I  see  'neath  the  shadows  in  each 
The  visible  presence  of  God. 


57 


RESIGNATION 

I  do  not  ask  that  I  may  see 
The  distant  years  that  are  to  be, 
Or  that  my  eager  hands  may  hold, 
Treasures  of  silver  or  of  gold; 

Nor  do  I  ask  for  vast  estate, 
That  foolish  men  may  call  me  great- 
How  could  I  for  such  trifles  pine 
When  all  the  Universe  is  mine*? 

I  simply  ask  that  I  may  be 
Content  with  what  is  given  me, 
And,  simply  trusting,  ever  wait, 
A  child  within  its  father's  gate. 


OUR  DAILY  PRAYER 

Our  Father  who  in  heaven  art, 
Thy  name  shall  hallowed  be, 
Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be  done 
Till  earth  with  heaven  agree. 
The  bread  of  life  for  all  our  needs 
In  fullness  Thou  dost  give 
And  teachest  us  by  Thy  great  love 
Our  brothers  to  forgive. 
And  when  our  feet  in  error  stray, 
Thy  love  will  swift  restore. 
Thy  Kingdom,  Power  and  Glory,  Lord, 
Oh,  give  us  evermore ! 
Amen. 


59 


ATTAINMENT 

I  am  content :  no  more  I  dream 
Of  ships  that  sail  on  distant  sea, 
No  more  I  wait  with  longing  heart 
For  what  is  mine  to  come  to  me. 

Too  long  I  in  the  future  lived, 
And  dreamed  of  things  that  were  to  be ; 
Untasted  left  the  present  good, 
But  said,  "Mine  own  will  come  to  me." 

Unveiled  at  last  mine  holden  eyes, 
I  saw  the  present  glory  shine, 
And  knew  the  universe  was  filled 
With  good  that  was  already  mine. 

Since  that  glad  hour  I  sail  serene 
On  what  before  was  troubled  sea, 
And  bless  each  wind  howe'er  it  blows, 
Since  it  but  brings  mine  own  to  me. 

And  is  this  faith?    I  do  not  know — 
I  know  it  smooths  life's  troubled  way 
And  brings  all  things  for  which  I  signed 
Within  the  kingdom  of  To-day. 


60 


TO  A  WATERLILY 

My  faith  is  large!     I  trust  that  Power 
Which  brought  from  stagnant  pool 
And  seeming  filth  this  perfect  flower, 
Will  in  the  end,  by  means  divine, 
Bring  from  each  act  of  erring  man 
Some  perfect  good.    Oh,  faith  sublime — 
I  trust  in  God. 


61 


THANKSGIVING 

Not  as  the  thoughtless  kneel,  O  Lord! 
To  bless  Thy  name  for  special  good, 
Do  I  approach  Love's  throne  to-day, 
But  for  the  larger  faith  and  inner  sight 
That  knows  each  trial  leads  to  Light — 
That  Love  is  Lord — and  sees  through  tears 
Thy  footsteps  leading  down  the  years, 
Till  every  sorrow  disappears 
And  peace  has  come  to  stay. 
I,  too,  give  thanks — and  pray. 


62 


FROM  FAIRER  SHORE 

Tonight,  a  touch  upon  my  head — 
My  being  thrills  with  sweetest  pain, 
The  years  roll  back,  'tis  yesterday, 
And  I  am  but  a  youth  again. 

And  one  long  dead  beside  me  stands, 
(I  scarce  believe  my  hair  is  white) — 
I  see  her  girlish  laughing  face, 
And  I  am  but  a  boy  tonight. 

With  youthful  eyes  I  gaze  around — 
Who  can  that  wrinkled  old  man  be"? 
"Hush,  darling,  hush,  'tis  but  a  dream; 
That  aged  man  was  never  me. 


"See,  I  am  young,  and  you  are  here; 
Strange  was  the  dream — I  thought  you  dead- 
But  now  I  see  your  laughing  face 
And  kiss  with  joy  your  sunny  head. 


"Is  this  a  dream*?    Say,  am  I  young? 
And  are  you  really  here  tonight?" 
The  fair  one  answered:  "You  are  young 
As  when  I  left  you  yesternight. 

"The  human  spirit  ne'er  can  age: 
I  come  to  you  from  fairer  shore 
To  tell  you,  dear,  Time  is  a  dream, 
You  are  a  youth  forevermore." 


64 


THE  CROSS  OF  CHRIST 

I  am  serene,  my  ship  sails  on 
In  boundless  oceans  of  content 
Since  first  I  welcomed  every  trial 
As  from  a  loving  Father  sent. 


In  foolish  days  I  prayed  for  peace, 
And  asked  that  good  alone  be  sent; 
Then  when  the  Cross  before  me  loomed, 
Before  its  terrors  swift  I  went. 


But  still  it  followed  as  the  wind, 
And  still  for  heaven  did  I  pray, 
Until  from  out  the  Cross  a  Voice 
Said,  "Come  to  me,  'I  Am  the  Way.'  " 

Uplifted  on  its  glorious  height, 
I  saw  Pain's  wondrous  purpose  clear, 
And  knew  each  trial  was  heaven-sent, — 
God's  messenger  to  bring  me  here. 

No  more  I  pray  that  good  be  sent, 
For  ease  alone  were  manhood's  loss; 
Vain  blows  the  storm  for  him  who  knows 
The  wondrous  meaning  of  the  Cross. 

65 


TO-DAY 

I  sing  not  the  songs  of  the  olden 
Nor  the  splendor  of  things  passed  away, 
My  eyes  from  all  beauty  are  holden 
Save  that  which  surrounds  me  To-day. 


I  dream  not  of  distant  tomorrows, 
Of  glory  far  down  on  life's  way, 
Nor  fear  I  the  oncoming  sorrows — 
My  strength  is  enough  for  To-day. 

No  longer  I  ponder  in  sadness 
O'er  the  sins  of  the  dead  yesterday, 
But  turn  with  a  heart  full  of  gladness 
To  the  duty  which  lies  in  To-day. 

The  birds  have  no  storehouse  for  treasure, 
And  yet  they  are  happy  alway; 
And  why  should  I  need  larger  measure 
Than  the  goodness  which  filleth  To-day1? 

Still  God  in  his  garden  is  walking, 
As  in  Eden  so  is  He  for  aye; 
In  tempest  and  calm  He  is  talking 
As  I  live  with  Him  here  in  To-day. 

66 


And,  lo!  glad  angels  are  singing 
To  cheer  me  along  on  life's  way; 
My  sweet  human  angels  now  living 
And  loving  me  here  in  To-day. 

Thus  I  live  in  the  great  Ever-Present, 
In  its  valleys  forever  I  stray; 
And  I  seek  not  a  heaven  far  distant, 
For  it  lieth  around  me  To-day. 


THE  SECRET  FOUNT 

From  out  of  the  soul  of  the  woman  I  love, 

There  floweth  a  stream  to  me, 

That  lightens  the  load  of  the  burden  I  bear 

And  lifts  me  on  wings  of  the  free. 

For  the  soul  of  the  woman  I  love  is  strong 

And  silent  and  deep  as  the  sea. 

I  stand  in  the  sun  on  the  heights  above 

And  men  sing  their  praises  to  me; 

But  little  they  know  of  the  fountain  of  strength 

To  which  in  my  need  I  flee ! 

For  what  is  their  praise  when  I  know  in  my  soul 

She  waiteth  alone  for  me; 

And  the  deep  of  her  eyes  will  look  into  the  depths 

Where  no  other  eyes  can  see. 

O  soul  of  my  soul,  in  your  silent  depths 

Is  the  strength  men  praise  in  me, 

To  the  deep  of  your  soul  I  come  for  help 

As  the  stream  urges  on  to  the  sea; 

For  the  stream  could  not  flash  in  the  sun,  my  love, 

Were  it  not  for  the  strength  of  the  sea, 

Nor  could  I  work  on  the  heights  above 

Were  your  strength  not  under  me. 


68 


And  I  call  to  earth's  sons,  my  love,  my  love, 

To  praise  not  my  work,  but  thee ; 

And  I  call  to  the  angels  above,  my  love, 

To  wait  on  still  wings  and  see — 

For  even  the  angels  might  learn,  my  love, 

The  secret  of  strength  from  thee. 


THE  DIVINE  FEMININE 

I  dreamed  that  all  alone  I  strayed 
On  desert  sand,  'neath  burning  sun, 
Looking  on  every  hand  for  aid 
To  find  at  last  that  there  was  none. 


No  green  thing  met  the  weary  eye, — 
An  endless  blazing  fiery  mist, — 
No  life  was  there  save  reptiles  dread 
That  in  the  gleaming  sunshine  hissed. 


In  time  I  reached  what  seemed  a  stream, 
Flowing  athwart  that  desert  land, 
But  when  I  sought  my  thirst  to  quench 
I  found  its  waters  burning  sand. 


Maddened  with  thirst  I  threw  me  down 
To  die  beneath  the  sun's  red  heat; 
But  as  mine  eyelids  closed  in  pain 
There  came  to  me  a  vision  sweet. 


A  woman  o'er  the  desert  came — 
A  river  followed  in  her  wake, 
And  where  before  was  desert  shore 
There  spread  the  waters  of  a  lake ; 
70 


And  flowers  bloomed  and  cities  grew, 
And  lovers  walked  in  quiet  shade; 
While  she  alone  seemed  not  to  know 
The  wondrous  change  her  coming  made. 

Awake,  the  dream  prophetic  seems 
As  power  of  woman's  love,  to  bring 
Healing  where'er  her  footsteps  lead, 
And  make  life's  barren  deserts  sing. 


THE  HOME  MAKER 

Not  yours,  perhaps,  the  vision,  dear, 
To  catch  the  meaning  of  the  years 
In  mighty  leaps  of  cosmic  thought; 
To  sing  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

But  here  on  earth,  where  careworn  men 
Reach   hands  of   doubt   to  heaven's   dome, 
'Tis  yours  to  found  a  heaven  now 
And  call  the  heaven  founded — Home. 

'Tis  wiser  far  to  play  your  part 
In  this,  our  earth-bound  life,  today, 
Than  but  to  dream  of  things  to  be 
And  keep  the  heaven  of  Now  away. 


72 


THE  ROSE  GIFT 

Just  a  gift  of  roses, 

Of  the  fragrant  briar, 

To  one  whose  life  is  perfect 

As  wild  roses  are. 

May  each  new  day  find  you 
Sweeter  than  the  last, 
As  the  rose  more  fragrant 
When  its  spring  is  past. 

Just  a  gift  of  roses! 
They  can  speak  more  true 
Than  my  words,  explaining 
All  my  love  for  you. 


73 


LIFE'S  MYSTERY 

Expectant  mother,  soon  to  be, 

Life's  greatest  mystery  sleeps  in  thee, 

Where  God  miraculous  doth  anew  create. 

Could  we  but  understand  and  know 

The  law  of  that  mysterious  life 

Nurtured  within  thine  own, 

Would  we  not  know  how  God  made  sea  and  land, 

How  suns  are  born  and  planets  grow*? 

Naught  do  we  know,  save  that  in  thee 

Still  worketh  the  creative  God. 

His  ways  are  in  thy  deeps; 

From  out  thy  dreamy  mother  eyes 

Something  of  chaos  conquered  speaks. 


74 


A  BABY'S  SMILE 

A  glance  from  out  of  the  infinite  deep 
Of  love  and  beauty  and  all  things  sweet; 
Soft,  trembling,  deep  as  an  angel's  dream, 
Flashing  through  tears  like  a  rainbow's  gleam ; 
A  vision  from  heaven,  earth's  care  to  'guile — 
All  this  and  more  in  a  baby's  smile ! 


75 


FROM  ANY  FATHER  TO  ANY  BABY 

Welcome  and  longed  for,  baby  so  dear; 

Long  wert  thou  hoped  for — now  thou  art  here. 

Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  child  of  our  love, 

Bringing  us  blessings  fresh  from  above. 

Strange  little  mystery  sleeping  so  fair, 

Tell  us  thy  history,  why  art  thou  here*? 

Foundest  thou  naught  in  regions  above 

Tender  and  sweet  as  thy  fond  mother's  love? 

Sawest  thou  naught  in  far  distant  skies 

Dreamy  and  deep  as  her  soft  mother  eyes'? 

Thou  art  so  wise,  dear,  we  are  so  blind, 

Dreaming  our  earth  dreams — open  our  mind, 

Teach  us  love's  lessons,  sweetest  and  best, 

Dear  little  wanderer !   Rest,  baby,  rest 

On  earth's  sweetest  pillow,  a  fond  mother's  breast. 


76 


REVELATION 
To  A.  L.  M. 

To  thee  the  beautiful  is  real, 

Thy  faith  unshaken, 

And  all  the  dreams  of  youth 

Still  thine. 

The  years  have  brought  thee  grace 
And  touched  with  softening  love 

Thy  face, 
But  nothing  taken. 
Thy  every  thought  doth  waken 
The  memories  of  Life's  morn, 
With  power  divine. 
In  thee  I  find  Love's  consummation- 
A  woman's  heart  revealed, 
Love's  highest  revelation. 


77 


MY  WISH  FOR  YOU 

What  could  I  wish  you  more,  dear  friend, 

Upon  this  Christmas  morn, 

Than  that  within  your  heart  each  day 

The  Christ  of  Love  be  born*? 

That  you  may  walk  with  courage  strong, 

Though  clouds  hide  heaven's  blue, 

And  reach  a  hand  to  those  less  brave, 

Their  courage  to  renew; 

That  wheresoe'er  your  footsteps  lead, 

The  flowers  of  hope  may  spring, 

And  in  the  hour  when  flesh  seems  weak 

Hear  God's  strong  angels  sing; 

That  you  may  be  a  light  to  all, 

One  whom  God's  light  shines  through: 

Then  all  Love's  kingdom  shall  be  thine — 

This  is  my  wish  for  you. 


CHRISTMAS  TIDE 

Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year — 
Every  day  the  Christ  is  born, 
In  some  manger  hid  away, 
Weak,  unnoticed  and  forlorn. 
May  you,  with  the  wise  of  old, 
Lay  your  treasure  at  His  feet, 
Following  the  star  of  hope 
Till  His  sacred  face  you  meet ! 
Will  you  travel  lands  afar4? 
Nay,  my  brother,  homeward  turn; 
Wheresoe'er  is  human  need, 
There  the  Christ  anew  is  born. 
Go,  then,  where  the  weary  toil ; 
Give  your  offerings,  glad  and  free; 
Then  His  voice  your  heart  will  cheer 
Saying,  "Lo,  it  was  to  me!" 


79 


IN  BEAUTY'S  REALM 

Manoa !  vale  of  light  and  shade, 
Where  rainbows  linger  from  the  first, 
Caused,  so  the  legends  say  of  old, 
By  Gods  who  came  to  quench  their  thirst. 
Here  morning  seems  to  beauty  call, 
And,  lo!  she  comes  with  airy  grace 
While  myriad-tinted  clouds  of  light 
Half  hide  and  half  reveal  her  face. 

A  longing  sadness,  sweet  with  tears, 
Comes  o'er  me  as  I  think  again 
Of  all  thy  glory  and  the  years 
I  watched  thy  beauty — not  in  vain. 
Though  other  charms  I  now  behold, 
Thy  hills  are  still  most  dear  to  me ; 
And  oft  in  memory's  quiet  hour 
Again  that  vision  do  I  see, 

When  like  an  artist  tired  and  worn 
The  sun  is  sinking  to  his  rest, 
But  reaches,  ere  his  race  is  run, 
To  kiss  thy  mountains  clothed  in  mist. 
A  radiant  rainbow-sheen  of  light 
Transforms  thy  hills  of  living  green 
To  temples  floating  soft  as  clouds, 
Fantastic  as  a  fairy's  dream. 

80 


Far  off  the  ocean  golden  gleams, 
A  ship  is  sailing  homeward  bound; 
She  seems  a  living  bird  of  fire 
Sailing  o'er  dream-enchanted  ground. 
I  muse,  in  Nature's  beauty  lost, 
And  feel  the  thought  I  cannot  give: 
If  this  is  but  Thy  garment,  Lord, 
Ah,  who  could  see  Thy  face — and  live? 


81 


CALIFORNIA 

California,  land  of  sunshine, 
Golden  empire  of  the  West! 
In  thy  valleys,  orange  blossoms; 
On  thy  mountains,  snowy  crest; 
Vineyards  growing  in  thy  green  fields; 
Cattle  grazing  on  thy  hills, 
While  the  glorious  golden  poppy 
All  the  air  with  gladness  fills. 

California!  fair  enchantress! 
Never  mother  loved  her  child 
More  than  I  thy  valleys  peaceful, 
More  than  I  thy  mountains  wild. 
Men  may  travel  wide  world  over 
Seeking  fairer  lands  in  vain; 
While  they  wander,  I,  thy  lover, 
Beauty-charmed,  will  still  remain. 

And  as  some  enraptured  lover, 
Hearing  tales  of  wondrous  grace, 
Finds,  in  every  fond  word  spoken, 
Semblance  of  his  loved  one's  face, 
So  I  find  within  thy  borders 
All  the  charms  of  foreign  strand, 
Fruits  of  tropics,  pines  of  Norway, 
And  the  snows  of  Switzerland. 

82 


Westward  moves  the  course  of  empire, 
And,  thou  strong  land  of  the  West, 
Laved  by  broad  Pacific  waters, 
Feel'st  the  throb  within  thy  breast; 
And  thy  face  so  myriad-meaning 
Bears  a  welcome  for  each  guest, 
While  thy  soft  winds  linger  'round  him 
As  a  lover's  fond  caress. 


Vain  indeed  they  seek  to  leave  thee, 
Who  have  felt  thy  magic  spell; 
Though  they  wander,  thou  art  with  them 
And  your  praises  still  they  tell. 
Then,  as  wild  bird,  soaring  freely 
In  the  daytime  east  or  west, 
Homeward  turning  in  the  evening 
To  thy  vales  of  peace  and  rest. 


Peaceful,  restful,  still  in  vigor, 
Thou  art  moving  to  renown, 
Challenging  the  deeds  of  old  lands, 
Wrestling  for  the  victor's  crown. 
Thine  the  deeds  of  mighty  prowess 
For  a  history  so  young, 
Thine  is  still  the  song  of  conquest, 
Thine  the  dauntless  victor's  song. 


Magic-like  thy  story  seemeth, 
Lo,  it  is  but  yestermorn 
Since  thy  forests  first  did  echo 
To  the  white  man's  wakening  horn. 

83 


Then  where  roamed  the  red  men  idly 
Over  dunes  of  drifting  sand, 
Rising  now  as  if  by  magic, 
See  thy  mighty  cities  stand. 


San  Francisco,  strong  and  daring, 
Standing  by  the  Golden  Gate, 
Proudest  product  of  the  West-land, 
Conqueror  of  time  and  fate. 
Who  can  prophesy  thy  glory, 
Wondrous  city  by  the  sea, 
Where  the  strong  men  of  all  nations 
Find  their  common  home  in  thee? 


Never  city  saw  such  daring — 
In  the  direst  circumstance 
Undefeated  by  disaster, 
Victor  over  loss  and  chance. 
Phoenix-like  from  out  thy  ashes 
Here  today  we  see  thee  stand, 
With  the  mighty  tides  of  commerce 
Flowing  out  to  every  land. 

And  thy  future,  who  can  paint  it*? 

Or  the  things  that  are  to  be 

As  the  onward  course  of  empire 

Surges  toward  the  western  sea? 

This  we  know:    each  year  shall  find  thee 

Fairer,  stronger,  than  of  old, 

Worthy  of  the  hearts  that  love  thee, 

And  our  sun-kissed  land  of  Gold. 

84 


In  the  Southland,  blossom-laden, 
Stands  the  Angel  city  fair, 
While  the  springtime  in  its  glory 
Seems  to  linger  ever  there. 
Travel  far  and  wide,  my  brother, 
Sack  the  ages,  spoil  each  clime, 
You  will  find  on  earth  no  fairer 
City  than  this  love  of  mine. 

O'er  her  gates  might  well  be  written 
"Welcome  Home,"  to  every  guest; 
Seek  no  further,  it  is  useless, 
Here  on  earth  you  find  the  best. 
Angel  city  of  the  Southland, 
Take  this  blessing! — it  is  thine, 
I  but  speak  for  all  who  know  thee, 
City  of  the  Palm  and  Vine. 

California!  thine  the  future, 
Sunset  land  with  life  aglow; 
Forward,  growing  e'er  in  splendor, 
May  thy  children  see  thee  go; 
Forward,  till  the  dream  of  Eden 
Shall  be  felt  in  all  thy  ways, 
Worthy  of  thy  morn  of  promise 
And  the  poet's  song  of  praise. 


TO  A  DREAMER 

The  joy  of  joys! —  to  dream  on  earth 
Of  youth  and  love  f orevermore ; 
To  hear  from  out  the  unknown  deep 
Strange  songs  no  mortal  heard  before. 

To  walk  on  earth  with  dreaming  men — 
Vain  men,  who  think  their  dream  is  true, 
Who  never  see  beyond  the  seen 
Within  the  vale  of  heaven's  blue. 

This  is  thy  lot,  O  friend  of  mine, 
Strange  friend,  I  believe  your  vision  true; 
Fain  would  I  leave  this  world  of  sense 
To  dream  such  dreams  as  God  sends  you. 


86 


THE  SONG  OF  JOY 

Two  birds  there  came  from  southern  clime, 

Into  the  springtime  of  the  West, 

And  in  a  tree  close  by  my  home 

Built  for  themselves  their  summer  nest. 

They  were  so  happy  in  their  love, 
Enjoying  all  the  bliss  of  spring, 
And  lived  so  much  unto  themselves 
I  never  knew  that  they  could  sing — 

Until  the  mother  bird  lay  dead 
Beneath  the  tree  of  their  love's  spring; 
Then  all  day  long  the  lonely  mate 
Flew  round  the  sad  home  sorrowing. 

But  when  the  eventide  was  come, 
And  all  the  shadows  gathered  long, 
He  sat  upon  the  highest  bough 
And  filled  the  eventide  with  song. 

And  often  as  I  listened  there 
To  that  lone  songster  robbed  by  fate, 
It  seemed  that  in  some  better  land 
He  saw  the  spirit  of  his  mate, 

And  knew  what  faith  would  teach  to  us 

If  we  had  ears  to  understand — 

That  death  is  but  the  open  door 

To  life,  than  this  by  far  more  grand. 

87 


ROBERT  BURNS 

The  day  with  its  toil  is  over 

And  the  evening  has  spread  its  wings; 

Alone  in  my  quiet  chamber 

I  sit  and  commune  with  kings. 


With  the  kings  of  various  nations 
Who  never  wore  a  crown, 
Yet  reign  o'er  the  hearts  of  millions 
The  silent  centuries  down. 


They  wait  for  me  here  in  the  evening 
And  their  message  of  truth  unroll; 
For,  though  dead,  they  still  are  speaking 
Live  words  to  the  human  soul. 


But  to  which  shall  I  list  this  evening? 
For  my  kings  must  speak  in  turns. 
I  will  choose  from  the  books  at  random, 
And  tonight  it  is  Robert  Burns. 


With  him  we  will  visit  the  Scots-land 
And  talk  with  the  milking-maids, 
Or  see  fair  Jennie  spinning 
The  wool  for  the  highland  plaids. 

88 


And  we  catch  from  this  true  soul  singing, 
The  glory  of  common  things — 
For  each  Scottish  home  is  a  kingdom, 
And  the  common  men  are  kings. 


Now  we  walk  with  his  Highland  Mary 
In  some  wooded  valley  green, 
And  we  think  of  her  not  as  servant, 
For  his  love  has  made  her  Queen. 


Or  else  when  the  shadows  gather 
And  the  ruddy  fires  grow  bright, 
Again  we  enter  the  charmed  land 
Of  the  Cotter's  Saturday  Night. 


Or  our  hearts  beat  fast  to  the  music 
Of  memory's  touch  sublime, 
As  we  think  of  our  loved  ones  parted 
In  the  days  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 


Thou  rulest  our  hearts,  O  Ploughman ! 
By  a  power  all  else  above; 
And  thy  kingdom  shall  perish  never, 
For  'tis  rooted  deep  in  love. 


89 


THE  MESSAGE  OF  TRUTH 

"I  have  come,"  saith  the  Voice  of  the  Spirit, 

The  life-giving  Spirit  of  Truth, 

"And  my  eyes  are  as  bright  as  the  sunbeams 

And  I  thrill  with  the  glad  thrill  of  youth. 

But,  listen!  ye  sons  of  the  mortals, 

Perhaps  I  am  not  what  ye  seek, 

For  your  ears  are  so  filled  with  the  earth  noise 

Ye  hear  not  the  words  that  I  speak. 

"Oh,  bravely  I  speak,  for  I  love  you, 
Though  my  words  seem  a  message  of  hate, 
For  I  scorch  with  the  breath  of  my  nostrils 
All  the  pride  of  the  false  estimate. 
Your  honor,  your  pride,  your  religion, 
Your  virtue,  all  things  you  possess, 
Are  lost  in  the  light  of  my  coming 
In  the  pit  of  the  black  nothingness. 

"My  fires  shall  destroy  all  your  treasures, 
Your  houses  of  refuge  shall  fall, 
Till  stript  you  lie  prone  in  the  ashes — 
To  the  man  that  you  are,  then  I  call; 
And,  lo!  from  out  of  your  grave  clothes 
You  spring  to  the  light  of  my  day, 
No  more  to  be  tried  by  the  earth-fire, 
No  more  to  the  Man-Gods  a  prey. 

90 


"But  free  as  the  winds  of  the  heaven 
That  bloweth  wherever  they  will, 
You  shall  lave  in  the  freedom  of  spirit 
And  bid  all  earth's  sorrows  be  still. 
Your  strength  shall  be  fresh  as  the  morning, 
And  your  peace  as  a  river  that  flows, 
While  your  joy  shall  be  full  to  o'erflowing 
When  the  wind  of  adversity  blows." 


HE  AND  SHE 

HE 

We  meet  today — 'tis  twenty  years 
Since  blind  with  agony  and  tears 

We  said  farewell. 
Your  face  has  changed,  my  dear, 
But,  still,  I  still  do  love 
Nor  fear  my  love  to  tell. 
Do  you  forget,  forgive, 

And  wish  me  well*? 

SHE 

Forget*?  forgive?     Nay,  nay! 

There  is  no  alchemy  in  time 

To  wipe  love's  memory  away. 

None  can  forgive  but  God, 

And  I  hold  every  memory  dear; 

'Twas  love  that  made  me  live, 

And  when  before  God's  throne  we  stand 

I  will  not  fear; 

Love's  Heart  will  understand! 


92 


DEEP  CALLS  TO  DEEP 

I  sit  on  the  shore  by  the  sea  tonight 

And  lave  in  the  joy  of  the  soft  moonlight — 

Deep  calls  to  deep  in  mystic  song 

That  never  has  ceased  since  the  world  was  young; 

And  I  listen  low  till  the  deep  in  me 

Responds  to  the  deep  of  the  central  sea. 

Nay,  'tis  not  the  song  of  the  waves  I  hear 

That  break  on  the  sand  in  the  moonlight  clear, 

But  a  song  of  the  stillness  of  the  deep 

That  never  has  heard  the  wild  winds  sweep; 

And  the  deep  of  my  soul  sings  back  to  the  sea 

A  song  of  great  tranquility — 

For  a  deeper  Voice  than  the  voice  of  the  sea 

Has  spoken  deep  to  the  deep  in  me, 

And  has  lifted  my  soul  to  victory. 


THE  JOY  OF  YEARS 

Let  others  sing  of  bygone  years 
And  paint  the  glories  of  the  past — 
Mine  be  the  vision  of  today, 
The  present  great,  the  future  vast 
With  hope  and  trust. 


I  do  not  ask  the  speeding  years 
To  bring  me  back  the  joys  of  youth, 
The  richer  joy  today  is  mine 
To  garner  up  the  gold  of  truth 
That  ne'er  can  rust. 


I  look  behind  and  see  how  oft 
I  sowed  in  hope  and  reaped  in  tears; 
Before  I  look,  by  time  made  wise, 
And  every  sorrow  disappears 
In  faith  secure. 


The  joy  of  years!  Old  age  can  ne'er 
Bring  dimness  to  the  soul  in  Truth. 
Men  call  me  old — I  answer  not, 
But  sing  the  songs  of  spring  and  youth. 
Love  shall  endure! 


94 


SPRINGTIME 

(AN  OLD  MAN'S  SOLILOQUY) 

They  call  me  old,  the  foolish  ones, 
Because  my  hair  is  more  than  grey; 
But,  ah!  the  birds  again  are  here — 
'Tis  Springtime,  and  my  heart  is  May. 

The  earth  is  old,  the  earth  is  grey, 
And  yet  the  flowers  her  breasts  adorn; 
'Tis  Springtime,  and  the  dead  revive 
As  on  that  blessed  Easter  morn. 

From  out  the  grave  life  springs  anew, 
My  loved  and  lost  are  with  me  here, 
I  call  them  through  the  power  of  faith 
And  swift  the  shining  ones  appear. 

The  winter  clouds  of  age  are  gone, 
The  dream  of  years  has  passed  away, 
The  call  of  Spring  is  in  my  soul, 
And  I  am  but  a  child  today. 


My  hair  is  white,  my  heart  is  young, 
I  rest  in  peace  from  foolish  things, 
And  listen  to  the  song  of  Life 
That  in  my  heart  the  Springtime  sings. 


The  song  of  Life  is  in  the  air, 

The  flowers  spring  laughing  from  the  sod; 

'Tis  Springtime  in  my  soul  today, 

The  Springtime  of  the  Living  God. 


WINGS 

A  mystic  worm,  one  summer  day, 

A  worm  that  dream' d  mid  creeping  things, 

Was  known  to  stop  upon  its  way 

And  say,  "I  wish  that  I  had  wings." 

Then  all  the  worms  that  nearby  lay 
Laughed  long  and  loud — poor  silly  things ! — 
And  cried,  "Put  all  such  dreams  away; 
You're  but  a  worm — you'll  ne'er  have  wings." 


And  one  grave  worm  more  wise  than  all, 
(Doctor  of  Worm  Philosophy,) 
Shook  his  wise  head  and  said,  "I  call 
This  talk  of  wings  rank  heresy." 


But  still  the  dreamer  dreamed  his  dreams; 
Whene'er  he  looked  at  flying  things 
He  crept  more  fast,  and  said,  "It  seems 
I'll  fly  like  that  when  I  have  wings." 


One  day  he  felt  so  chill  and  numb, 
His  body  pierced  with  deadly  stings; 
But  dreaming  still,  e'er  death  was  come, 
Said,  "Maybe  this  will  bring  me  wings." 

97 


To-day  I  saw  on  wings  of  fire 
This  occult  dreamer  of  the  dust, 
And  as  it  circled  glad  in  air 
There  came  to  me  this  living  trust : 


That  every  dream  and  fond  desire, 
These  longings  strange  for  better  things, 
Are  not  in  vain:  sometime,  somewhere, 
These  dreams  of  ours  will  end  in  wings. 


Great  gift  of  God,  the  years  and  days 
Of  life's  rich  heritage  I  praise; 
On  manhood's  sloping  summit,  I 
Sing  of  Life's  growing  ecstacy. 
With  joy  I  watch  life's  sun  go  down; 
I  clasp  the  rich  years  as  a  crown 
And  know  the  Lord  of  Life  will  send 
The  best  wine  at  the  journey's  end. 
What  though  the  sun  slopes  to  the  west? 
The  coming  days  shall  be  the  best. 
The  wisdom  that  the  years  have  brought, 
The  mellow  gains  of  ripened  thought, 
Shall  be  to  me  an  open  door 
Through  which  I  enter  to  explore 
The  unknown  deep  forevermore. 

A  child  once  more  am  I  today, 

And  with  my  blackeyed  sister  play. 

The  rain  has  ceased,  the  waters  clear 

Reflect  the  trees  and  flowers  near, 

And,  pointing  to  the  mystery, 

She  cries:  "  'Tis  Eden!  There's  the  tree — 

O  brother,  it  is  Eden,  see !" 

Ah,  forty  years  have  passed  and  more, 

I've  traveled  far  from  shore  to  shore, 

But  still  the  vision  of  that  hour 

When  first  my  soul  felt  Beauty's  power 

Has  lingered  round  me  evermore. 

Above  the  din  of  seeming  wrong 
My  soul  has  heard  the  spirit  song, 
And  often  round  some  saintly  head 
Has  seen  the  hands  of  God  outspread. 
101 


Some  mother  bending  o'er  her  child 
Has  shown  a  love  so  undenled 
I  felt  His  presence  very  near, 
Nor  cared  to  deeper  look,  for  fear 
Too  great  the  glory  might  appear. 
'Tis  Eden,  yes !  'Tis  Eden  here, 
Could  we  but  see  with  vision  clear. 
I  do  believe  it  more  today 
Than  when  I  heard  my  sister  say 
These  words  in  that  long  yesterday. 

The  morning  glory  here  again 
Speaks  to  my  soul  of  youth  and  spring, 
But  she  who  taught  my  eyes  to  see 
The  glory  of  each  flower  and  tree 
Sleeps  long  and  deep  beneath  the  sod. 

0  mother!  from  thy  rest  with  God, 

1  feel  thy  spirit  still  can  see 

These  flowers  that  seem  to  talk  of  thee; 
For  often  in  the  evening  hours 
I  see  thee  here  among  thy  flowers, 
And  dearer  seems  my  work  to  me 
Because  I  know  that  thou  canst  see. 

(ffo  Mother  in  Heaven} 

I  know,  dear  heart,  you  still  can  lead 
To  heights  I  have  not  strength  to  climb. 
I  feel  the  thrill,  I  catch  the  gleam, 
And  know  your  love  unchanged  by  time. 

Thou  art  not  dead — love  cannot  die ; 
Our  earthborn  eyes  alone  are  blind. 
I  reach  through  death,  by  faith  made  wise, 
And  find  thee  present  to  the  mind. 
1 02 


Perhaps  'tis  thine,  from  heights  above, 
To  lift  my  earth  song  to  the  skies; 
I  know  of  faith  and  love,  dear  heart, 
Because  your  great  love  underlies. 

And  as  the  eagle  in  its  flight 

Is  held  by  the  embracing  air, 

So  when  I  reach  the  heights  I  dream, 

I'll  find  your  love  has  brought  me  there. 

(T'he  Message  of  the  Flowers) 

Life  leads  to  life,  and  death  to  birth; 

The  flowers  spring  laughing  from  the  earth, 

And  whisper  deep  with  fragrant  breath, 

"Life  leads  to  life,  there  is  no  death." 

O  weary  souls!  In  life's  dark  hours, 

Knowest  the  language  of  the  flowers'? 

When  trials  come  and  storms  doth  blow, 

Canst  thou  not  to  thy  garden  go, 

Forget  the  wrong  in  Nature's  way, 

And  from  the  flower  learn  to  pray? — 

Hear  what  I  heard  the  flowers  say : 

"Out  of  the  dark  earth 
Where  long  I  slept, 
Seeing  around  me 
Nothing  but  death, 

"Nature  above  me 
Slumbered  so  long 
Till  deep  within  me 
Heard  I  Love's  song. 

103 


Out  of  the  darkness, 
Lo,  I  have  come! 
Seeking  my  lover 
Far  in  the  sun. 

"Lo,  he  has  called  me ; 
To  him  I  smile, 
Feeling  his  warm  love 
Round  me  the  while. 

"Sometimes  he's  hidden, 
Deep  is  my  pain. 
Then  in  his  goodness 
He  sendeth  me  rain. 

"Happy  am  I, 
My  lover  is  near. 
Did  he  not  love  me, 
Would  I  be  here? 

"Where  will  he  lead  me? 
How  do  I  know? 
Only  to  feel  him 
Above  and  below." 

(Dreams  and  Dreamers) 

'Tis  wrong  to  dream,  I  hear  you  say, 
Life's  riper  years  mean  work,  not  play; 
But  'tis  my  mood,  and  wise  it  seems 
To  give  myself  at  times  to  dreams. 
Much  have  I  learned  from  books,  I  know; 


104 


On  Science  streams  have  learned  to  row ; 
In  scholar's  ways  my  feet  have  trod; 
Learned  what  the  churchmen  know  of  God, 
And  bless  them  all  for  what  they  gave — 
The  scholars  wise,  the  churchmen  grave — 
But  pass  from  all  the  scholars'  themes 
To  the  enchanted  land  of  dreams. 

'Tis  well  to  dream,  and  dreams  I  praise 

When  they  give  gladness  to  our  days 

And  fit  our  lives  for  Duty's  ways, 

For  deep  I  know  a  stream  within 

From  primal  source  God-issuing; 

In  hours  of  reverie  we  may  hear 

Its  undertones  of  wisdom  clear. 

Too  deep  for  words  its  language  seems — 

'Tis  only  heard  by  one  who  dreams. 

(Canada  Revisited} 

"Breathes  there  the  man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said 
tfhis  is  my  own,  my  native  land! 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned 
From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand." 

These  words  kept  ringing  in  my  ear, 
As  once  again  the  stars  appear 
O'er  native  land.      O  memory! 
Who  can  escape  the  bliss  of  thee? 

'Tis  Canada !  'Tis  home  to  me ! 
Again  I  see  the  maple  tree, 
Strong,  hardy,  waving,  glorious,  free, 
Emblem  of  her  great  destiny. 

105 


Here  as  a  boy  I  used  to  try 
To  court  the  muses  from  the  sky, 
And  all  my  country's  wonders  trace 
Beneath  the  maple's  flowing  grace — 
Believed  each  wild  bird  singing  free 
Sang  nearly  all  their  songs  to  me. 

Hear  what  I  heard  the  robin  say 
In  early  life  at  break  of  day, 
Singing  to  cheer  his  brooding  mate, 
Who  sat  on  nest  with  heart  elate 
Deep  listening  to  her  singing  mate : 

(The  Robin's  Song} 

"Life's  in  the  morning 
And  love's  in  the  spring 
Hearts  ne'er  grow  weary 
When  love's  on  the  wing. 

"So  in  the  morning 
Gladly  I  sing, 
Sing  to  my  darlings 
Under  your  wing. 

"Life's  in  the  morning, 
And  love's  in  the  dawn : 
Wings  ne'er  grow  weary 
When  heart  is  love-warm." 

(The  Maple  and  the  Child) 

"Come,  listen  to  me,"  said  the  maple, 
"O  child,  come  listen  to  me ! 
And  I  will  tell  you  the  story 
Of  the  life  that  is  hid  in  a  tree. 
1 06 


"Long  years  I  slept  in  the  bosom 
Of  the  Heart  that  is  heart  of  us  all, 
Till  deep  from  the  earth's  heaving  bosom 
I  heard  such  a  sorrowing  call 

"That  I  said  to  the  Life  Spirit,  'Send  me 
Some  lesson  I'm  needed  to  teach.' 
And  he  said,  'Hasten  forth  on  thy  mission 
And  grow  there  in  silence  and  preach.' 

"And  I  sped  forth,  not  knowing  whither, 
Till  I  came,  as  a  seed,  in  the  snow. 
'Twas  so  cold,  but  the  life  was  within  me 
And  I  knew  in  good  time  I  would  grow. 

"And  the  spring  winds  blew  softly  upon  me 
Till  I  lifted  my  head  to  the  skies; 
And  the  stars  kept  watch  ever  o'er  me 
And  they  seemed  as  the  spirits'  bright  eyes. 

"Then  the  cold  winter  storms  blew  upon  me, 
And  I  cared  not  but  laughed  'neath  the  sod; 
For  I  felt  all  life's  currents  within  me, 
As  I  garnered  the  vintage  of  God. 

"So  long  I  have  witnessed  Earth's  sorrows, 
And  deep  in  the  silence  I  preach — 
But  the  ears  of  Earth's  children  are  holden, 
And  they  heed  not  the  lesson  I  teach. 

"But,  listen,  O  child !  to  my  message, 
And  learn  life's  lesson  from  me. 
When  tossed  on  life's  billows,  oh,  hasten 
To  the  Voice  that  you  hear  in  the  tree. 
107 


"For  I  gather  from  out  of  Life's  tempests 
The  sweetness  I  give  unto  thee. 
O,  listen,  my  child,  in  the  silence — 
For  God  has  a  Voice  in  each  tree." 

Ah,  that  was  a  dream  of  life's  morning 

When  I  listened  to  God  in  the  tree, 

And  now1?   Why,  still  I  believe  it, 

But  deeper  their  message  to  me. 

Have  you  lost  from  your  soul,  O  my  brother, 

The  quietness  learned  in  the  wood*? 

Or  lived  with  a  tree  as  a  brother 

Till  your  soul  and  its  soul  understood"? 

Then  hasten  from  out  of  earth's  noises, 
Forget  what  you  learned  in  the  street, 
Grasp  solitude  deep  to  your  bosom 
Till  your  soul  with  the  tree  soul  can  meet. 
The  wisdom  of  scholars  will  perish, 
Earth's  languages  all  pass  away, 
But  the  wisdom  that  speaks  in  the  forest 
Forever  is  fresh  as  the  day. 

How  often  in  life's  weary  battle 

When  the  tide  seems  running  all  wrong, 

I  have  gone  to  the  forest  refreshing 

nd  felt  life's  currents  grow  strong; 
As,  deep,  all  the  roots  of  my  being 
Sank  sweet  in  the  bosom  of  Love, 
And  my  soul  heard  the  hush  of  the  silence 
The  voice  of  the  forest  above. 


106 


Here  was  I  born — the  same  log  walls 
Where  first  I  saw  the  morning  light ! 
But  five  and  forty  years  have  passed — 
It  seems  more  like  a  dream  of  night. 

But  it  is  home !  My  brother  still 
Lives  in  the  house  where  I  was  born, 
And  much  remains  as  it  was  then 
But,  ah,  so  much,  so  much,  has  gone. 

My  white-haired  sister,  too,  is  here, 
(The  black-haired  one  of  yesterday) — 
And  I,  my  hair  is  also  grey. 
But,  then,  "life  is  a  stage,"  they  say. 

We  play  our  parts,  some  disappear, 
And  others  put  on  strange  disguise; 
Life  bears  one  meaning  to  the  child — 
It  bears  another  to  the  wise. 

I  will  not  weep,  for  naught  is  lost; 
In  Memory's  halls  my  loved  appear, 
Although  their  hands  I  may  not  touch — 
They  are  not  dead  while  love  is  here. 

We  talk  of  life  and  what  I've  seen, 
The  parts  I  in  life's  game  have  played, 
And  they  the  simpler  joys  relate 
Of  those  who  by  the  hearthstone  stayed. 

109 


The  past  is  here,  the  dead  revive, 
Father  and  mother  now  I  see, 
Sisters  and  brothers  all  again — 
Blest  alchemy  of  memory ! 

'Tis  well  to  live — I  will  not  weep, 
For  in  the  house  where  I  was  born 
I  can  not  feel  that  they  are  dead, 
Those  faces  from  the  fireside  gone. 

One  sister  in  the  Empire  State 
One  brother  in  the  Golden  West, 
The  eldest  sister's  body  sleeps 
Beneath  the  south  sun's  soft  caress; 

Father  and  mother,  side  by  side, 
Within  the  country  church  yard  lie. 
"Dust  unto  dust,"  the  prophet  said, 
But,  ah,  the  Spirit  ne'er  can  die ! 

The  scene  has  changed,  the  curtain  down, 
And  they  but  wait  behind  the  veil 
To  greet  us  when  our  turn  will  come 
God's  endless  sunlit  seas  to  sail. 


no 


SUNSET 

Sunset  and  golden  glow, 

The  peace  of  a  soul  at  rest; 

Life's  clouds  afire  with  the  artist's  touch 

And  the  glory  of  love  expressed. 

Sunset  on  earth,  and  peace — 
Day's  hour  most  blest; 
Peace  on  the  silent  sea, 
Sunset — and  rest. 

Sunset  on  earth,  my  dear, 
In  love  God-given; 
Sunset  on  earth,  and  peace — 
Sunrise  in  Heaven. 


in 


UNFINISHED  STILL 

Unfinished  still,  O  soul — 
Unfinished  still! 

Ascending  heights  beyond  thy  dreams, 
Advancing  through  the  spheres, 
Leaving  the  worn  out  worlds  thou  visitest 
Renewed  for  souls  that  are  to  come, 
Creating  in  thy  mind  new  worlds 
Exhaustless  as  the  stars,  O  soul ! 
Exhaustless,  thou,  as  God; 
Unfolding  through  infinity, 
Approaching  to  thy  Goal 
But  lacking  still  the  Master-stroke 
Until — the  Nameless  Word. 
O  soul ! 

Unfinished  still, 
Until— 


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